


Funny Seeing You Here- A Carulia fanfiction

by SomeChaosSpinner



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: F/F, No Beta we die like Dexter wolfe, i didn't proofread this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29028045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeChaosSpinner/pseuds/SomeChaosSpinner
Summary: "Do you miss me like I miss you?"Julia's life could be going worse. No more VILE, no more ACME, a job as a history teacher at a prestigious college. She's a bit lonely. But overall, she's doing alright. But when a stranger comes to the college late one night, claiming to know the red woman who both started and ended her past career, well.Not affected by the events of Season four.Originally posted on my account on fanfiction.net, I moved it here because I don't use fanfiction.net anymore
Relationships: Julia "Jules" Argent/Carmen Sandiego | Black Sheep
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
Julia sighed and put her pen down. She was glad to be out of ACME, police work wasn’t for her, but it was nearly midnight and she wasn’t nearly done grading these papers.  
A clatter and someone swearing softly caused Julia’s ears to perk up. Was another teacher here this late? A student? Had something fallen on them- a bookshelf, perhaps? She’s learned the hard way the ones in the hall weren’t bolted to the wall.   
Julia stood up, grateful for the break. She better go check. Stretching out the kinks in her back and arms, she adjusted her coat and stepped out into the hallway.  
At first, Julia wasn’t sure what she was looking at. It was dark in the hall, as though someone had turned the lights off. She checked her watch- they were supposed to stay on for a few hours, or until she left. And she was definitely still here.  
Her eyes adjusted, aided by the soft glow from her own door, and Julia saw a figure, leaned against the wall, holding something heavy. A few heavy textbooks were scattered on the floor around her.  
“Hello?” Julia’s voice echoed in the quiet hallway.  
The figure looked up, and Julia saw what was in their hand: a painting.   
Julia’s stomach clenched. She couldn’t be sure, but it looked like the new painting the art teacher had bought.  
“You shouldn’t be here,” they whispered. A girl’s voice.  
“I could say the same about you,” Julia muttered. “Do you… go to school here?” she didn’t she;d believe whatever answer this stranger gave her, but she’d learned from Carmen to give people the benefit of the doubt.   
A hard lump formed in Julia’s throat. She shouldn’t think about Carmen. Julia had never realized how convert ACME was until she left, and the daily updates from Zari and chief slowed to a vague mention of a captured thief mysteriously disappearing- with a trusted british intelligence officer being arrested- and also vanishing- the same night.   
The person looked up. They were wiry, with a bun that rose above their hairline. Julia still couldn’t see their face.  
“Can you keep a secret?” The voice was pinched, stressed, and Julia was surprised when she felt her head bob up and down. “I’m not.”  
Fear rooted Julia in place. What if this was a VILE operative, sent to steal that painting? Julia didn’t think it was the original, but if it was…   
The stranger saw Julia’s hand snaking towards her phone before Julia did. “Please don’t!” The sentence tumbled out as one word. “Just.. forget I was ever here.” She was already walking backward, away, and conflicting feelings slammed into Julia like a tidal wave. As she turned around, Julia heard the girl mutter, “Carmen makes it look so easy.”  
Time slowed down. Julia made a noise in her throat, one that caused the girl to turn around. Julia didn't say anything for what felt like an hour, frozen in place. When she did speak, her voice was reduced to a croak.  
“Do you…” Julia coughed, trying to clear the rust from her throat, and tried again. “How do you know Carmen Sandiego?”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
The girl stiffened immediately, her eyes widening. “How do you know Carmen?”  
“Uh..”  
Helping Carmen in mumbai.  
The roses.  
Watching her stumble from the edge of the belltower, sure she had died.  
“I…”   
Leaving ACME.“It’s… complicated.” Julia’s voice was clearer, but she hated the uncharastic squeak at the edge of the sentence. This could be going better. It could be going worse, but it could be going better.   
“You’re not from VILE, are you?” the woman's fingers tightened her grip on the painting.  
“No.”  
“Carmen mentioned another one…” Her eyes slid away from Julia, deep in thought. “Ask… me?”  
“ACME,” Julia corrected. When the woman’s eyes narrowed, Julia quickly added, “But I’m not working with them.” Pause. “Well, I was. But not anymore.”  
“Then how do you know her?”  
“She’s my…” Julia hesitated. Partner? Friend? She thought back to the day on the train- “Partner?” and the edges of her lips pulled up despite herself. “We worked together. Sort of.” God, why couldn’t she say what she wanted to say?  
Julia suddenly felt very tired, as if her head was wrapped in lead, and it occurred to her how little she’d slept in the past few days.   
Maybe it was fatigue, or the urge to escape a very awkward conversation the only way she knew how, but the words tumbled out of Julia’s mouth before she could stop them.  
“I’m sorry, do you want a cup of coffee?”  
The woman raised her eyebrow. Assessing if the college professor, in her thin flannel and baggy jeans, was a threat, probably. Julia knew the look.  
Great job, Argent. Up to this point, you were doing a good job not thinking about Carmen.  
In a way, this woman reminded Julia of carmen. Flighty, but with an air of determination that would be hard to shake. She had seen it in Stockholm, she had seen it in Mumbai, she had seen it in the airport when Carmen hurriedly explained the plan, handed her a black earring, and handed her the duffel bag filled with… millions, probably, of dollars worth of stolen goods.  
Finally, the stranger spoke.  
“...sure, why not? This painting isn’t getting any lighter.”

Back in the classroom, walking from the small stove that had been in the classroom since before Julia had arrived, she walked over to her desk and handed the stranger, perched on the edge of the table, a cup. She had been watching Julia intently, perhaps to make sure she didn’t slip something in the drink, but took a slow sip now as Julia sat down with her own cup. She preferred iced coffee, really, but the autumn chill and the simple fact that it was much faster to prepare had made her reach for the pot instead of the pitcher.  
Fatigue made Julia’s hands shake slightly as she raised the mug towards her lips, and she gave a small hiss of pain as the hot liquid spilled on her sleeve.  
“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your name?” Julia asked after silence that stretched a bit longer than she wanted it to. The (former) ACME agent realized suddenly that the questions burning at her mind seemed more like an interview pamphlet than something you’d ask a strange woman who broke into your workplace’s art studio at twelve thirty two in the morning.  
The woman hesitated. Julia waited, reminded of the guilty, slightly angry(?) look her students gave when she asked for them an assignment they suddenly realized they hadn’t done.  
“...Sonia,” she said, then looked up. “What about you, what’s your name?”  
“Julia.” After a moment’s hesitation, Julia asked the first question (and her top priority of knowing) she had for the woman.   
“Is that…” Julia gestured to the painting leaning, front out, against her desk. “...the original?”  
“Yes.”  
“How do you know?” It seemed like a stupid question, but Julai didn’t want to assume the fact that came out of Sonia’s mouth next.  
“Because I stole it.”  
The word choice confused Julia. “You mean, right now?” It seemed like an obvious enough statement. Never would have guessed, she thought dryly.  
Sonia looked down. “No, I mean, your art professor or whoever works there, they bought stolen property.” She looked up. “Property that I stole.”  
“So, what? Did you decide you wanted it back?” Julia hated how she sounded, but her own tiredness and, well, Carmen had bottled up inside her until she wanted to explode.  
“Well, I…” Sonia looked down.   
“I ran into Carmen on my last caper. She… told me there were lines I wouldn’t be able to cross. And she was right.”  
Sounds familiar, Julia thought, the bitter taste of the coffee biting her tongue.  
Wasn’t that why she’d left ACME? Seeing Carmen like that, half dead in the snow, broke something inside her.  
Julia had thought she’d just needed time. To forget that night, forget the look Carmen gave her.  
Betrayal.  
And regret.  
Julia didn’t want anyone to ever look at her like that ever again.  
“You probably don’t believe me,” Sonia sighed when Julia didn’t say anything, just staring at the cup, surprised when her glasses began to fog up.  
“No, I do,” she said quickly, taking off her glasses and wiping them off before Sonia noticed. “I… think I get it. Sort of.” Julia’s eyes traveled back to the painting. In her head, she counted down how long she had before the lights went off. If Sonia wanted to leave the college discreetly, she would need to do so soon.  
Julia opened her mouth to tell her that, but before she could, she heard footsteps from the hallway and the sounds of lights going out.  
“Oh no,” Julia muttered. Turning towards Sonia, she said quickly, “It’s the night janitor. They can’t see you here.”  
Sonia’s eyes darted towards the window.   
“Do those open?” She said quickly.   
“Well, yes…”  
“Good.” Sonia scooped up the painting and stood up. Before Julia could say anything more,the young thief slid out the window, onto the ground a few feet below.   
After watching the window for a few moments, Julia sighed and scooped up her bag. It was late. She could finish the papers tomorrow.   
The janitor nodded at her as she closed the door.   
“Leaving for tonight?” He asked.  
Julia nodded, trying to look like it had been any other night. One without reminders of her. “Yes, good night.”  
The cool midnight air bit through Julia’s jacket as she shouldered the door open. She tried not to let exhaustion slow her down as she made her way to her car.  
Julia heard footsteps and felt a presence behind her. Spinning around, she once again saw Sonia, shoulder length hair fluttering in the light breeze as she held the straps of a large backpack.  
“What’re you gonna say tomorrow?” The young woman asked unprompted. “About the painting,” She elaborated.  
Julia shrugged. Once upon a time she would have said something about the stolen property. But now, she was just trying to hold onto a job.  
“Well, good night.” Sonia sounded disappointed, but she didn’t say anything more as she turned away.  
“Wait!” Julia Stuttered a bit, unprepared to ask this question. Nevertheless, Sonia spun back and raised an eyebrow,  
“Do you… work with Carmen?” Julia’s throat was tight.  
Sonia shook her head.   
“I work alone, now.”  
Julia’s shoulders sank.  
Seeing her frustration, the edge of Sonia’s mouth tugged up.   
“Why?” Sonia’s voice had a teasing edge. “Do you want me to send a message when I see her?”  
Despite the autumn air, Julia’s face suddenly felt hot.  
“No!” She sputtered, which only caused Sonia’s knowing smile to become wider. “I mean… no. I’m good.” Julia coughed, knowing her face was only becoming redder. “Good night, Sonia. And… good luck.”  
Sonia’s smile faltered, replaced by grim determination. “Thanks. You too.”  
And Sonia disappeared into the night, leaving Julia standing alone in the car park at one in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

Carmen added a new line to her grappling hook and aimed for the roof. If she got this right, she would be able to restore a painting that had “belonged” to an art collector for years where it belonged. In a museum, with other works by the artist. Where it had been.. Until VILE had stolen it.  
And sold it off the highest bidder, Carmen thought bitterly, using the hook to bring herself up to the roof.  
“Security cams disabled, Red!” Player’s voice, perky (even when it was supposed to be four in the morning in Ontario. That boy drank entirely too much coffee), as he fired off a complex line of code. “You’re in the clear.” A pause. “But... I think there’s someone else in there. Could be a trap.”  
Carmen bit her lip. It could be a trap. But she was too far to go back now.   
“Only one way to find out,” She muttered, slipping in through an open window.  
It was dark in the collector’s art room. You never would have guessed half, if not more, of their art pieces were illegally obtained… by VILE, of course. She pulled out her flashlight and began to look around. Carmen’s stomach clenched as she looked around at all the statues and paintings she wouldn’t be taking. But this was a precise operation. She could only take one painting, because that was all she’d planned for.  
And besides, Carmen thought, passing a gilded chair that must have been worth thousnads, I can’t exactly fit a marble statue into the folds of my coat.  
The beam of her flashlight cut through the darkness, landing on the painting she was here for.  
Carmen smiled. Van Gogh’s paining may have been underappreciated during his lifetimes,but Two Women In The Woods had a certain ethereal realness to it that couldn’t be found in a modern painting, as if the paints themselves had been arranged by miniscule, skilled hands, until a color pattern had been found that felt right.  
Careful not to damage the centuries old painting, Carmen slowly lifted the painting off its hook. She knew from Player’s digital recon that there were no pressure sensors in the room, and anyway, a missing painting may attract attention from the authorities, who likely wouldn’t miss the fact that the painting wasn’t the only thing that didn't belong.   
Suddenly, Carmen heard footsteps. She swung around, expecting a fight.  
Carmen’s eyes widened. Then she grinned.  
“Sonia?” Carmen whispered.   
Sure enough, it was her, holding a painting in her hands.  
“What are you doing here?” Sonia whispered.  
Carmen gestured to the painting in her hands. “Two Women in the Woods,” Sonia read. Then she looked up at Carmen.   
“Should have guessed this guy had more stolen stuff than what I supplied ,” Sonia whispered, gesturing to her own painting.  
“Guernica. Had no idea VILE was into abstract art.” Carmen adjusted the heavy painting in her arms. “How’ve the past two months gone?”  
Sonia shrugged. She was different, Carmen could tell. More determined, somehow. Carmen knew the look. It was the look of someone with a mission.   
“I ran into someone who knew you,” Sonia offered.  
Carmen stiffened. “Good or bad knowing?”  
“You tell me.”  
“Red,” Carmen has nearly forgotten Player was still in her ear. “Someone’s coming.”  
Carmen pulled out her grapppling hook and offered her hand to Sonia, painting wedges between her elbow. “Let’s finish this outside.”  
Sonia took her glove, and Carmen launched herself onto the roof as the door began to open.  
Carmen and Sonia sprinted over a few rooftops before they stopped, walking at a much slower pace.   
Carmen turned on Sonia. “Okay, now tell me. Who’d you meet?”  
“Some person named Julia. She was with the first painting I stole back. I think one of the other professors bought it.”  
Proffesors. It made sense that someone like Jules would have preferred a job like that to ACME.  
“Oh no, I love my job. I just love history even more, I suppose.”  
Carmen felt herself smile. Julia would be, well, happy, it seemed like. Without her.  
That’s better, she thought. Without Julia, there’ll be no more Stockholm repeats.  
Still, Carmen felt something in her chest. Sadness?   
Julia had been, stockholm aside, a valuable ally, she supposed. Maybe that was it. Chase was harder to trust, and Zari was unreadable. And, well, she couldn’tr exactly send an Email to Chief explaining her reasons. Carmen didn’t exactly want to collaborate with a murderer anyway.  
“Uh, where are we going?”  
Sonia’s voice cut through Carmen’s thoughts. She blinked, hard.  
“I’m rondeveuing with Zack and Ivy,” Carmen explained. “Do you want to come with me, or…?”  
Sonia shook her head. “I’m good,” she said.   
“Well, goodnight.”  
Sonia waved and walked over to the edge of the roof. But, then she seemed to remember something.  
“Carmen?”  
“Sonia.”  
“She misses you. That much is clear.”  
Sonia jumped down before Carmen could say more.


	4. Chapter 4

Julia’s feet pounded into the pavement, her footsteps almost drowned out by her heavy breathing. She stopped to catch her breath, wiping sweat off her brow.  
Julia hadn’trun for a while. She’d done it every day in college, she’d been part of track before, but every since she’d been assigned with catching Carmen sanidgeo only two weeks into her job at Interpol, she’d barely been able to sit down, let alone keep up her hobbies.  
But now, it was just nice to clear her head, even if the early winter chill bit into her legs and her lungs burned.  
She thought, again, about Sonia. Was she telling the truth? Or was she really just a thief, VILE or otherwise, stealing the painting?   
And she thought about Carmen. Did Carmen miss her? It was a stupid question. But still, she wondered.  
Julia’s mind drifted back to the week before. The college after Sonia broke in had been… chaotic. The college was closed and police were called in. She’d spent the first few days nervously glancing at her phone, expecting a call about helping Sonia, but nothing came. She hadn’t even been questioned. She didn’ know what had happened to the art professor, and to be quite frank, she didn’t care.  
There had been more art thefts, too, closer to where she lived. Too close. It bothered her, similar to when, she was seven, her mom had installed a new security system after a break-in down the street.  
At least it was the weekend. Plenty of time to sit down and think.  
Julia turned a corner, towards her apartment building. When she opened the door and punched in her code, something caught her eyes in the glass of the door.  
A white van.   
Julia rolled her eyes. She’d never gotten used to the insistence of news stations to use white vans, despite the stigma surrounding them. She’d seen at least ten in the past week, all trying to cover one of the thefts that had occurred.  
The blast of air conditioning hit Julia as she got on the stairs, and she shivered. Even though it was mid fall and the temperature was already dipping into the sixties, maybe fifties, her apartment building insisted on keeping the hallways cold enough to see your breath.  
Julia took off her glasses and wiped them down as she walked through her hallway. This was the only reason she didn’t see the woman sitting against her door until she practically stepped on her.  
Julia let out a small gasp. It was Carmen, in a red hoodie and black tights. She looked up at Julia and smiled.  
“Hey, Jules.” The sound of Carmen’s voice, after six months, made Julia’s stomach flutter. The lady in red’s eyes went from her sweat-soaked shirt, worn sneakers and semi-tight sweatpants before resting back to her face. “You look nice.”  
Julia swallowed. She’d always thought about what she’d say to Carmen if she saw her. She’d thought about it in Mumbai, in Stockholm, in the airport, even in Vera Cruz.   
But she’d never seen Carmen like this. Unplanned, as if Carmen had just dropped in for a chat. And the nickname… it still had a bit of power over her, long as it had been.   
Realizing carmen was waiting for her to reply, Julia choked out, “You look good too.”  
Carmen gave a half smile. They were silent for a moment.  
“How long were you waiting?” Julia asked.  
Carmen shrugged. “Twenty minutes or so. I didn’t want to barge in…” She paused like she was remembering something and cringed.   
“So, college, huh? Always thought you were a bit of a teacher… working with Devinaux must be a full-time job.”  
Julia allowed herself a small smile. “How’d you know?”  
“A little bird told me.” Carmen straightened and stood up. “How is it?”  
Julia shrugged, looking anywhere but Carmen’s eyes. Were they blue? Purple? Grey? All three or none of the above? Who knew? “Demanding. But… different. Quiet.”  
“No Chase,” Carmen supplied.  
Julia’s mouth twitched. “Yes, that too.”  
“Do you…” Carmen took a deep breath. “Do you like it better than when you were working with ACME?”  
Julia put a hand on the back of her neck. “It’s… well, yes. I guess when I was chasing… you, no one really listened to me. Except with Stockholm-“ Remembering, and realizing, how that might sound, Julia quickly corrected herself. “-I mean, with letting me talk to you, Chief wanted me to ask why you were in Sweden, but that trust ended as soon as you hacked into our servers.” Julia didn’t ask the question that was glaring her in the face, but Carmen sensed it.   
“I was… looking for my mother. I never knew her- never knew either of my parents.”  
Julia didn’t know what to say. She didn’t get along well with her parents, but it was better than having no parents at all. I’m sorry to hear that felt cheap, like a premade card.  
So she said nothing. Not at first. Julia just stood there, not quite meeting Carmen’s eyes.  
“Did you… find anything?” Julia said at last.  
Carmen shrugged, but there was tension in even that simple motion. “Yes. But… not exactly what I wanted.”  
“I’m sorry.” Julia meant more than just what Carmen had told her now.  
Carmen swallowed and handed her her duffel bag. Julia took it skeptically. It was heavier than she expected, and Julia’s arms dipped just slightly.  
“What’s in this?”  
“Something I grabbed last night,” Carmen answered. “A painting, ‘obtained’ by a renowned art collector. Keeps to herself, has a suspicious amount of masterworks compared to the receipts on public record… you know the type.”  
Julia nodded. She did. “Why me?”  
Carmen shrugged, but the color in her cheeks shifted suddenly. “You were in the area. Easier than dropping it off to the cops, and way easier than tracking down my friends at ACME-” Carmen offered a grin that her whole face contributed to, “-especially now that you’re not there.”  
Julia’s stomach twisted. “Thanks.” Pause. “I think.”  
Carmen looked like she was going to smile again, but suddenly, she cocked her head, apparently listening to something- her earpiece? Julia knew from the time she had played decoy that Carmen’s earring was a comm in disguise (not that she had told Chief that- or any other details on what she had been doing that weekend).  
Carmen’s eyebrows shot up, and she pressed her lips together.  
“Okay,” she muttered. Then the lady in red looked back up at Julia. “I’ve got to go. Make sure that goes to te right people.” Carmen had turned around and was already walking towards the staircase when she turned back to Julia.  
“Jules?”  
“Yes?”  
“Be careful. VILE is the world’s best kept secret, and ever since London, they’ve been more vicious than ever. If anylne got hurt because of me…” Carmen swallowed. “Just… stay safe, okay?”  
Julia nodded. “I can do that.”  
Carmen gave a small smile, then went down the stairs. Julia stood there for a bit longer, holding the ten million dollar duffel bag.  
One of her neighbors came out of their room. They smiled at Julia. “Everything okay?”  
Julia shook her head to clear the cobwebs from it. “I’m fine, thank you.”

Outside Julia’s apartment  
Stepping over a patch of newly fallen snow, Carmen got into the van, feeling the flush of relief that came with every successful mission. She was no ametur to crime and covering her tracks, but there was always risk. Even something as simple as delivering a package held danger for both her… and the recipitant.   
But no one had seen them. Well, maybe a neighbor or two, but Carmen had been there before, and she’d run background checks on the area. They were safe.  
“How’d it go, boss?” Zack didn’t bother hiding his teasing tone.   
Carmen rolled her eyes. “Let’s go.”  
Somewhere in Scotland   
Coach Brunt growled. News had just arrived of the red superthief’s latest heist, and the woman, so motherly at times, npw looked ready to tear her fellow faculty members in half, much to Maelstrom’s chagrin.  
“Coach Brunt, my dear, this is quite an upsetting situation, but please refrain yourself from destroying any more of our tapestries. These are hand weaved.”  
“Upsetting?” Coach Brunt roared. “Upsetting is when you burn your toast, Maelstrom. This is far from burned breakfast. She’s back, and she seems to be flaunting Roundabout’s arrest. That’s te third heist this week! And I wonder, Maelstrom- how are we going to refund the collector? Because she seems awfully determined on us paying for her little finger painting.  
“We’ll figure it out,” Countess Cleo uttered tightly. She was always a bit tense, but this was different. More aggressive, more compressed. “We always do.”  
“How?” The green-haired lady roared. “Think about the long haul, Cleo. Carmen Sandiego will just keep taking what’s ours. Especially with Roundabout out of the secret service. We need something done, and we need it done fa-”  
The massive screen suddenly lit up, displaying the face of an operative. Wherever they were, they were outside and it was snowing lightly, and fine white powder dusted their light blue hair in a fine coat. They raised an eyebrow when they saw Coach Brunt’s livid expression.  
“Am I interrupting something?”   
Maelstrom regained his stone cold expression and waved his hand, willing Brunt to as well. “No. What do you have for us today, Master of Disaster?”  
On the other side of the screen, the former engineer’s dark eyes glinted with malevolence.   
“I spotted a wolf in sheep’s clothing outside of a certain former law enforcement’s apartment. And-” They tapped a few buttons on their tablet, and the image went through, one of Carmen giving a certain woman the stolen goods- “You won’t want to miss this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MOD isn't a reocurring character


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter of which the actual plot comes into play

“Any guess on what they’re stealing this time?” Player’s voice rang out in Carmen’s ear.  
Carmen watched Flytrap disappear around a corner, waiting a moment before following. The blonde woman was wearing a thick jacket, clearly unused to snow, or at least the thick, unrelenting kind that swirled through the air of Boston at nine in the morning. The fine, cold powder was mostly white now, as it drifted gracefully to the ground in piles, but soon it would be black and grey with city smog and dirt. Carmen stumbled a bit as her foot sunk into a snowdrift that was deeper than it looked.  
The twins were back in San Diego. Carmen knew it wasn’t that they wanted to help, but she knew a thing or two about escaping your past. It was fine, though. Boston’s streets were too crowded to get much use out of a getaway driver, and VILE could afford a taxi.  
Carmen navigated around a crowd of what looked like high school or college students, spread across the sidewalk as they laughed and talked. She stopped a moment, reminded of what her life could have been like. Had Jules once been one of those students, unaware of VILE and ACME and everything in between, just trying to pass the next class? “No idea.”  
Carmen took great care to stay out of the operative’s line of sight. She was a bit nervous about facing Flytrap again and wanted to avoid a confrontation- if Frytrap whipped out the bolas when she was completely alone, save for Player’s voice, it wouldn’t be easy to get past her and figure out what VILE was after.  
“Well, there’s some museum trinkets that might be worth a bit, but I don’t see why VILE would come here for those.” Player’s voice was thick with irritation. He liked to be on top of VILE, normally was, but this latest caper, whatever it was, didn’t have any information about it on Player’s “usual sources” (The dark web), or the hard drive. Not that the had drive was particularly recent- it had been about a year since Shadowsan had given it to her- but it still had information about heists on it, would until the next hard drive came on December first. Whatever this caper was, it was completely unlisted.  
Maybe Flytrap’s gone rogue, The thief thought with an amused smirk, thinking back to her first caper. She dismissed the thought as quickly as it came; it seemed unlikely. What could the bola-slinging woman gain from defecting for VILE?  
Suddenly, with no indication- no look over her shoulder, no slight hesitation, Flytrap burst into a full on sprint; cutting through crowds, almost tripping over a large dog that barked as she raced past, and sumburging herself entirely into the city’s near constant rush hour, out of Carmen’s sight.  
“Flytrap’s on the run,” Carmen breathed. A person with the largest poodle she had ever seen gave her a strange look as they walked by, dog in tow.  
Confused, but determined not to lose her, Carmen followed. She caught some glimpses of the lady’s straw colored braid through the thick crowds, the only indicators that she was going the right way.  
Then she was in a narrow space between two apartment buildings, completely alone, the sounds of the city behind her.  
“Where is she?” Player asked. He must have seen Carmen slow down on her tracker.  
“I don’t know.” Carmen kept walking forward, frustrated. She was reminded of La Chevre’s disappearance in Rio, but this time, there was no hidden trapdoor under an armchair.  
Something caught her eye.  
“What’s that?” Carmen murmured. She didn’t even realize she had said it aloud until the words left her mouth.  
“What’s what, red?”  
“Some sort of… photograph?” The lady superthief crouched and reached for the piece of paper, partially wedged under a half-centimeter gap between a brick and the pavement. She grabbed it hesitantly, worried about a trap, but there was nothing. There was writing on the back, but that was faded, perhaps by the dampness of the alleyway.  
“It’s…” Carmen began as she flipped it over.  
And stopped short.   
She tasted bile.  
Her first thought was some sort of prank. It was a picture, one of someone’s still form huddled against a doorway, their face hidden partially from the camera. Carmen thought she saw blood on the ear facing the lens. It could have been some sort of twisted halloween decoration, or a bootleged photo of a show.  
But the photo was clear, detailed, traken from a photography camera. Whoever had taken this picture didn’t take it in a hurry, or intentionally blur it to hide the bad quality of the decorations. They had taken this photo with still, calm hands, as if they had all the time in the world to document a moment in time, a place.  
This was real.  
This was a threat.  
Or proof of a job well done.  
Carmen’s heart leapt into her throat as she scanned the photo once more, taking in short bluish-black hair of the figure, beige, slightly yellowing wallpaper enclosing a white wooden doorframe.  
She flipped over the note again, the words now strikingly clear.  
I told you that you couldn’t save everyone, Sandiego. Let’s see if you can save this one.  
Then, an address. Not far from here.   
And a date, set for three days from now.  
But it read more like a deadline.  
The note had no name. It didn’t need a name.  
VILE.  
Carmen’s fingers clenched around the edges of the paper, crinkling the image a bit.  
“Red?” Player’s voice was a bit morew urgent- he’d heard Carmen’s voice drop away, breath that she hadn’t realized that she was holding unable to fill the gap due to its absence. “What is it? What’s the caper?”  
Carmen cleared her throat. But still, when she spoke, her voice was strained, and rasped on the last syllable.  
“Jules..” Carmen took a deep breath, trying to clear out the thoughts that raced through her mind, slamming into eachother and keeping her from forming a coherent response.   
She couldn’t let- wouldn’t figure out what VILE would do if that trime ran out. She didn’t want- wasn’t able to to see Julia in Chase’s position: A vacant stare, mind so scrambled that she was unable to tell allies from enemies.  
Plus, the stakes were higher, because even if Carmen didn’t know how to treat it, even if Jules didn’t know how to accept it, they were allies.  
And Carmen was done with her allies getting hurt.  
She realized Player was still waiting for a response. She stuffed the photo intp her pocket and spoke with some of her old strength in her voice again.   
“Flytrap wasn’t here to steal something. She was here to deliver a message.”  
“And that is?” Player’s words tumbled out of his mouth a little too quickly.  
Carmen swallowed the lump in her throat. “Julia’s in trouble. And we’re going to help her.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter of which there are mentions of mild brain injury and kidnapping so many don't read this if you're not into that

Jules  
Julia’s jaw tasted like blood.  
Who knows why that was the first thing that hit her- but before her eyes even opened- maybe why her eyes opened- she realized that her mouth was filled with the coppery, bitter smell of the stuff, with no clear culprit. Her mouth felt dry as a bone.  
Julia’s eyes opened. They felt sore and dry, like the rest of her body. She hadn’t done anything overly demanding before she’d gone to bed…  
Julia blinked again. Why was it so dark? She reached for her bedside lamp, but her arm wouldn’t move. Confused, she tried again, only to register the sensation of cold metal digging into her wrist.  
Julia suddenly realized where she was. Her stomach dropped as she realized something.  
She was handcuffed to a chair.  
Last night’s- afternoon’s- events came rushing back to her.  
After Carmen had left, someone with brightly dyed hair came up the stairs and kindly asked if she was okay. Looking back now, Julia realized that the person had looked at her with far too much familiarity for a stranger. Being startled out of her stupor, Julia had nodded and gone back inside, bringing the bag, placing it on the table before going inside her room to change into a dark blue jacket, soft white shirt, and jeans.  
They’d followed her inside.  
Julia’s heart skipped a beat.   
They’d followed her inside. Sitting in her kitchen, face tilted away fro her, when Julia had come back out of her room. Before she could do anything, even entirely register a face, they’d run forward and stuck something into her arm with pinpoint precision.  
Dizziness came fast, sudden, and overwhelmingly so. She’d collapsed before...  
Nothing.  
Her breaths came faster, her head still fuzzy as she looked around the room again. The air was cold, not enough to hurt, but it chilled her lungs. Her glasses were mercifuly still on, but the left lens was cracked, her glasses sliding a bit off at an awkward angle.  
The room was dark, the walls just out of her line of sight, and the room was so dusty she could feel it in her lungs as her chest rose and fell. She sneezed, hard, hearing a soft bless you before the room fell again into complete silence.  
Julia jolted up. Someone else was in the room.  
“Hello?” She half-whispered, the single word painful against the skin of her dry throat. Something against the wall closest to her shifted but didn’t respond.  
“Where am I?” She tried, her voice slightly louder.  
No response. But from the figure’s corner, after a long stretch of thick silence in the air, she heard a voice.   
“She’s awake.” It wasn’t directed toward her, as if whoever had spoken was speaking into a phone or radio.  
A pause. Julia heard a door open and close.  
Julia realized something. Or rather, remembered something.  
Dank room.  
Handcuffs.   
Kidnapping, without a visible struggle.  
The victim not remembering much.  
This was VILE.  
She felt a lurch in her stomach as she could only guess what happened next.

Carmen  
On Aquidneck Island, a thirty-six-square-mile patch of land stationed in the pacific ocean best known for being offshore of the smallest state in the US, the door to a white van opened, and a woman wearing a coat over an elegant red dress stepped out, navigating around the shimmering, slippery ice that was beginning to form on the side of the road in the midst of a thick, gentle snow. She turned to face the huge marble mansion, standing, imposing over the horizon.  
“You know, they call it the Breakers because the waves break on the shore,” The redheaded driver offered, in an attempt to lighten the mood. He knew the risks, and what Carmen was heading into. He also, without a doubt, remembered how the last rescue mission had gone.  
Carmen’s mouth twitched. “Is that true?”  
“Carm, forgot your wedding gift!” Ivy leapt out of the open door and handed Carmen a small, light box wrapped in creamy white Hallmark style wrapping paper. “Give my congratulations to the lucky pair.”  
Carmen gave a wry smile and walked towards the doors to the massive building, where other guests to the wedding were being let inside.  
“You nervous?” Player asked Carmen as she brandished her fake invitation to the person at the entrance. They scanned it, clearly not noticing the small imperfections that came with most, if not all, forgeries,   
“Why would I be nervous?” Carmen asked sarcastically, stopping to take in the arching ceilings, pristine decorations, and the vastness of the entire place. There were a few people who just kept walking (Player had informed her that there were guided tours during the day), having it before, but many guests, like her, paused to look around the main room before continuing to where the ceremony was being held. Carmen placed her gift on a table with others piled high ahd continued it.  
“Well, Jules used to work with ACME so there’s a chance they’re on site,” Player sounded like he was counting down a list, “You couldn’t have Zack and Ivy come with you because three people the couple’s invitees didnt immediately recognize might have been just a tad bit too suspicious, you only had twelve hours to prepare because after the wedding this place will close for maintenance; you’d have to break in after that, and-”  
“Yes, Player, I get it,” she muttered, dropping her voice a bit lower when a man in a dark blue suit raised an eyebrow at her obvious but untraceable agitation.   
Player wouldn’t be dettered, though.  
“-and this time there’s a special someone on the line.”  
Carmen felt her cheeks turning red. “Shut up,” she whispered.  
“I’m just saying-”  
“Player.”  
“Just teasing ya.” Player’s voice was light, and Carmen could hear him typing away on his computer over in Ontario.   
Carmen threw her head over to the grand staircase, weighing her options. According to Player’s sources, this place had been a VILE base for almost two years, and public events were typically excuses to exchange large goods. The wedding was a smoke screen for tonight’s transaction, and Carmen knew the lucky couple who’d just happened to “win” a reservation at the Breakers’ would have their special night ruined if they knew what was really going on under the surface.  
Carmen rubbed her palms against her temples. Somewhere within this sixty-something-thousand square foot mansion was one Jules Argent.  
Carmen just needed to find her. Simple.   
But she couldn’t let anyone find out what she was doing here. Police might find VILE’s base of operations before Carmen ever did, and by then they’d be long gone. She’d seen it in Botswanna.   
Ugh. She’d need to be smart about this operation.  
Carmen decided to look for Jules first thing- it wasn’t like the bride and groom had invited her and sightseeing would be a waste of time.  
Carmen slipped through a simple wooden door, entering the cramped, dark servant’s hallways,  
“These hallways were specially designed to allow servants to move unseen through the Breakers’,” Player said as she went down the steep stairs, almost tripping as her heels caught on the edge of the landing.   
“Moving unseen? Just what I need,” she smirked, pushing open a door slowly and peaking inside. An old-time bedroom, preserved for some sort of exhibit, empty. Carmen shut the door and went further down the hallway.  
Carmen squinted in the darkness. She didn’t want to draw unwanted attention to herself so soon after the stunt in London, and knew there was a chance other people would be in the hallway, but really wished it wans’t such a risk to pull out her flashlight. She could barely see fifteen feet in front of her, so she didn’t notice a door was open, swung her way and blocking her path, until she almost walked into it.  
Carmen immediately jumped back, mind reeling with possibilities. She didn’t know what it opened to, meaning the room could be empty, or full of people.  
Carefully, she began to push the door shut, slowly, slowly…   
“Hello?”  
Carmen stopped. The voice was raspy, barely above a hesitant whisper, but it was unmistakable.  
Jules.  
She pulled the door open again and peeked around the doorway. Of course, if there was someone in there, they would have already noticed she was there, likely, but it was force of habit.   
What she saw made her chest feel like it was caving in. She could just make out Jules, sitting in a chair, hands bound behind her. Her head was facing away from the door, but it swung in Carmen’s direction when she walked in. when she spoke, her voice was but a rasp.  
“Ms. Sandiego?”

Julia  
Carmen chuckled, but Julia could hear the tension in her voice. She came closer, then stopped, a few feet away from where Carmen sat.  
“Please, just call me Carmen.” the lady in red pulled out a flashlight and turned it on so she could see Julia better. “Are you injured?”  
“N-no.” Julia’s head was pounding to meet the beat of her heart, but Carmen didn’t push her, just continued to look the college professor over.   
When Carmen walked behind her and grabbed one of her wrists, Julia almost yelped before remembered there were probably VILE agents nearby and clamping her jaw shut.  
Carmen sensed- or saw- goosebumps rise on her arms. “Hold on,” she whispered. “I’m goung to take off your handcuffs.  
Julia felt a hot buzz run through the places where the cuffs were, then the cold press of metal lessened and ended entirely. She pulled her wrists in the front of her and rubbed the spots where the cuffs had dug into her skin.   
Carmen walked to the front of her just as Julia fell out of her chair and threw up. The few contents of yesterday’s breakfast remaining in her stomach quickly found their way on the floor.  
Carmen said nothing as Julia retched, turning slightly to allow some privacy. When Julia felt as if she could breathe again, albeit shakily, breathing heavily, Carmen turned back and offered Julia a hand to stand up. Julia took it gratefully, looking into Carmen’s eyes. She remembered that night in mumbai, where they had last looked at each other like this.  
Things had been different back then. Julia was sure they would always be different- but this was no time to get somber for the third time in what she presumed to be twenty four hours.  
“How do you feel?” Carmen asked. Her voice was careful, soft, measured.  
“Like shit,” Julia replied.   
Carmen nodded. “We have to get out of here.”  
Suddenly, Julia felt claustrophobic and small in the dank room. She didn’t even know where she was, forget how to escape, but she took a deep breath to banish the barrage of thoughts before they would consume her. When she spoke, her voice was mercifully clearer.  
“How are we going to do that?”  
Carmen looked her up and down. Julia became very aware her casual grade-tests-at-home clothes, standing next to the woman in the stunning red dress who barely looked fazed by the situation. Unlike Julia, who was quite aware how the panic was likely plastered over her face.  
When she spoke, Julia was quite sure that she wasn’t the only one who was thinking of the fashion show.   
“Not the best circumstances, but we’ll make it work.”  
Heat rushed into Julia’s cheeks, and she hoped that the flashlight wasn’t bright enough to make out her blush.  
Carmen grabbed her hand. “Follow me.”   
Julia did, following Carmen’s swift but cautious gait through cramped hallways. She began, as the headache became less of an immediate issue in her thoughts, to gain an inkling of where they were, as she recognized doors and stairways from pictures and videos. This was only confirmed when Carmen turned toward her at the end of a hallway, in front of a dark wooden door, the kind that could either loom or fade into the background, depending on where you were. Carmen turned toward her and spoke in a confident, reassuring manner.  
“Remember, act like you belong and no one will question it.”  
Then she opened the door slowly and pulled Julia out, into a dance at a wedding reception in the Breakers. The dazzling chandeliers above her glittered, slightly fractured by the hairline crack in Julia’s glasses lens. The music swelled, tickling at her headache, but wasn’t loud enough to reignite the pain.  
Julia froze for a second, eyes widening. A thousand possibilities raced through her head, none of them good. What if a VILE operative recognized her? She couldn’t dance- she’d stand out-  
Carmen, noticing her hesitation, tugged her along, more gently this time. She began to move in a more rhythmic way, and when her other, unoccupied hand found the small of Julia’s back, causing Julia’s head to jerk up, bringing the heavy door to the outside within her line of view, something connected in her mind.  
They were going to dance their way out of here.   
She would have laughed, if she wasn’t so tense she felt like it was not out of the question to suddenly and spontaneously shatter like glass.  
Julia opened her mouth. This was a terrible idea.  
“I know it’s risky,” Carmen muttered, seeing her face. “Just trust me.”  
Julia’s heart fluttered. Trust me.   
Trust was a bit of a difficult thing for Julia- it was for Carmen, too. The professor had seen it. But the mere idea that trust was something she deserved to give to Carmen, that Carmen could give her in return, gave Julia pause. When the music sped up and so did Carmen, all her energy was focused on not stepping on Carmen’s feet.   
Her thoughts became entirely on the dance. Carmen had done this before, it was obvious; Julia had not. But Carmen allowed Julia to stumble. Gracefully, she dipped Julia to the floor, keeping her just high enough that Julia’s feet stayed on the ground. When Julia came up, Carmen pulled her closer, and Julia almost stopped moving out of-  
“In this part, we switch off,” Carmen muttered. “Don’t go towards the one with the green tie- he’s VILE. When you switch off again, ignore the blonde lady.”  
Julia wasn’t entirely up to speed and felt a bit confused, but nodded all the same, broke off from Carmen when she let go of Julia’s back, and walked towards a taller man with raven black hair who seemed to consider refusing Julia when he saw her baggy jeans and cracked glasses, then decided against it and did a similar thing that she had with Carmen. This time, it seemed much more awkward, and Julia was relieved when they broke off again but felt a little bad on account of the fact that she had stepped on the man’s toes twice and accidentally kicked him in the ankle during a particularly difficult part.  
The next round, this time with a girl who seemed to have been dragged here by some estranged uncle or something, based on the fact that she didn’t particularly seem to care that her orange skirt went above her knees and clashed with the blue streak in bleached blonde hair, Julia realized that she was attracting some attention, not only from the man but from people looking down from above on the staircase, and some dancers as they passed her. A jolt went up Julia’s spine when it occurred to her that the alleged VILE operative in the green tie’s blue eyes had never left her every time she glanced over, and she was all too glad to be back in Cafrmen’s arms when the next switch occurred. Carmen, who looked to have been muttering something (Julia only caught the words car ready), received her and they continued the dance.  
“People are staring,” Julia whispered. She wasn’t sure why she pointed this out- it was quite obvious from what she could tell.  
Carmen gave her hand a squeeze. “Let them. They’re probably wondering where such a gorgeous woman showed up, right out of the blue. How do you feel about running?”  
Julia chose to believe that by gorgeous woman, Carmen meant herself. “Right now? The same way I feel about dancing.”  
“Well, you’ve done a wonderful job at that up to this point. Brace yourself- when I say run, run.”  
For the second time this night, Julia’s stomach twisted, except it was more out of butterflies than fear. Okay- and a little fear.  
The dance went on for a few more minutes, and Julia couldn’t help but notice that they were drifting further away from the dance and closer to the doors. It wasn’t a significant drift- not enough that anyone else would ikely point them out, but close nough that Julia noticed. Her grip on Carmen’s hand tightened.  
One more step.  
Two more steps.  
Dip. good. Stand back up.  
Three more steps.  
When they were as close as Julia could imagine them being, Carmen let go of her back. Her voice was barley above a hiss, but Julia was ready for it.  
“Run.”  
So she did. There was one benefit to not being prepared for a wedding- she was still wearing her running shoes and, while slower than Carmen, Julia was able to cover a good enough distance between them and the door in a short time.  
Behind them, Julia could hear confused murmurs as the two dashed to the exit, but no one made a move to follow them. When they stopped at the door, Julia looked behind her and noticed that green tie and the blonde haired woman were gone.  
Carmen noticed, too, and Julia picked up on the way she stiffened as her eyes momentarily scanned the crowd before she opened the door. Carmen held the door open for Julia, who almost slipped onto the icy steps before regaining footing and carefully making her way down, holding Carmen’s arm for support. Despite the slippery ground, Carmen moved as swiftly as the conditions would allow, eyes set on a, at this point, familiar white van with its headlights off parked in the distance. When they got onto the road, hich had been salted, Carmen ran, breath steaming and mingling with the thick snow that fell around them in gentle swirling patterns. Julia did her best to keep up, despite the difference in stride between the two. They reached the car, and Carmen threw the door open and motioned for Julia to get in, confirming Julia’s suspicions that the car was not, in fact, empty. Two redheads, who Julia recognized from the disaster that had been Stockholm and, of course, Mumbai, looked back at her. The taller one, whose hair was more coppery than red, grinned at Carmen over her shoulder, but their eyes quickly wandered to behind Carmen, Julia turned around to see the woman and man walking towards her, slowly enough not to arouse suspicion, but just so. The shorter redhead moved over, and Julia took a bit too long to realize that she was clearing space for her. Behind her, Carmen waited patiently as Julia stood in the doorway, but her impatience was almost audible.  
After a few seconds, Julia’s mind clicked into space and she gingerly slid into the front seat next to the redhead, who spoke with Carmen, how it had gone (well), who was following them (Tigress and Mime Bomb), how was Julia, with a coy look at her as Carmen slid into the cramped space- a tad bit too close, close enough that Julia’s cheeks became a bit warm even in the cold air as snow swirled in through the doorway.  
“I’m fine,” Julia mumbled in reply, feeling a bit sheepish.  
Carmen turned to the taller man. “Zack, drive. See if you can shake them.”  
“Got it, boss!” Zack turned on some music that pounded through the truck and stepped on the gas, the vehicle lurching forward and accelerating as quickly as it could on the recently plowed road.  
The rest of the trip passed in a blur. Julia tried her best to keep her eyes open. It shouldn’t have been hard, with the music and the redheads’ cheerful banter. But as they went over a large, arched, bluish-green suspension bridge, Julia’s eyes became heavier and her head fell on Carmen’s shoulder.

Julia’s eyes opened into the light of late morning. She opened her eyes, reaching for her glasses, slowly registering what had happened the day before. It didn’t appal or shock her, more of sunk into her mind, like water into a submerged sponge. She looked down and realized she was still wearing the same clothes from the night before.  
Julia checked her clock. It was late, around eleven o’ clock. Her headache was gone, which she was grateful for. Peering out the window, Julia saw that the snow had stopped, but a light dusting of fine powder covered the sparse trees within view.  
When Julia stepped out of her bed, her stomach cramped with hunger, and she realized that she hadn’t eaten in about twenty-four hours.As she opened her bedroom door and stepped out, she looked around, a bit paranoid, for any more unwanted intruders. Gratefully (and unsurprisingly), Julia saw no one, but she did see a small stack of ungraded papers.   
Well, it was a three-day weekend. She reached for a bagel and began to spread margarine over it, walking over to her cluttered desk. She reached for the first paper on the stack and stopped,  
It wasn’t a test, it was a note.  
Julia plucked it off and skimmed it. It was scrawled in careful, delicate script, some variation of cursive from someone who preffered to write in print but felt it was necessary for the occasion. She caught a few words like sorry and careful and a phone number that she doubted she’d ever call (It was from The States and regional costs could be a bitch). Julia paused for a few minutes and read it again. A thrill ran down her spine when she read the name.

Jules,  
It’s late while I’m writing this. You fell asleep an hour ago, and Zack suggested that I didn’t take you back to HQ. (Sorry, but we’re not entirely sure we can trust you yet.) I have the entire plane ride back to write this, since I’ve never been very good at falling asleep at high altitudes.  
Julia stopped. For some reason, it hadn’t occurred to her that they’d had to fly back to France from Newport. After a pause, she continued reading. She felt a bit nervous, as if she was scared of what Carmen would say.  
I’m not really sure what to say, but I figured I should tell you something: I’m sorry you got pulled into this. I have a policy where I try not to get people involved in things they shouldn’t, because I’ve lost a lot of friends that way. As you can see, I’m not very good at that.  
Julia bit her lip.  
That being said, I hope what you experienced didn’t shake you too badly. If it is, I understand,   
What was written next had been erased multiple times, cleanly enough that Julia couldn’t read what was left from the erased messages, but enough times that Julia could see the clear wear and tear of the page. She felt a bit like she should be taking out a red pen.  
And I’m sorry you were captured. I’m going to be more careful in the future to make sure it doesn’t happen again. I think I should avoid coming around here for the time being, while I’m sure we weren’t followed all the way back, if you ever feel unsafe, you can call this number.  
There’s so much I wish I could explain. I wish I could tell you about the hacking, about why I do what I do. You knew more than your former co-workers, of course, but I don’t think you know the full extent of exactly what is going on. I’d like to tell you, but instead I’m just sitting here, wishing  
Another erased mark.  
I would talk to you about all this. I wish I had the time.  
Julia could feel that Carmen was rambling. She debated throwing it away, maybe writing that number down somewhere just in case first (again, not that she’d likely use it), but continued reading. The last part had a (it sounded stupid, but she noticed) difference in shade to the graphite, and Julia inferred it must have been written much later.   
I’d like to do that. Maybe not right away, but I’d like to talk to you. In a safe place. Where our respective former employers won’t burst down the door. Not that you have to come (it would likely be safer if you didn’t), but if you want to talk sometime, I have business nearby in a few weeks. Here’s the address.  
Then, a date, set fifteen days from now.  
-Carmen  
Julia checked her computer- she smiled when she saw that it lined up with her schedule. She set a reminder on her phone, got dressed, and finished grading to assignments. She stayed up late, sleeping in and the events of the day before had reduced the forty eight hours she had saved to grade tests and email the scores to the students to thirteen.   
The next day, she returned to work. No one asked her about the weekend, and she didn’t hear anything about it on the news. Life went on, and no one knew except for her, Carmen, the redheads, and the VILE operatives in the mansion knew what had happened.  
Her mother called her later in the week, asking how her classes were going. Julia said they were going fine and hung up after a few more minutes of small talk.  
The next weekend was quiet. Julia was asked by her neighbor’s son if she knew how to make pie. Julia said yes.  
Then, fifteen days after the events of the dance, Julia left the college during a gap in her schedule. She felt tense with excitement as she walked swiftly down the street, keeping an eye on her watch.  
When Julia opened the door to the coffee shop, she smelled roasting coffee beans. She saw Carmen, in a baggy sweatshirt and leggings, sitting in a chair at a table and peering out the window, looking a bit bored. But when she heard the ding of the door’s bell, the lady in red looked up. She smiled in a warm, soft, simply brilliant way that filled Julia with exhilarating happines. She stood up, and all of a sudden it was as if they were just two friends meeting in a coffee shop, under normal conditions. Julia wondered offhandly if they could have meet like this, if things weren’t… like this.  
The sad nostalgia of a time never seen vanished Carmen gently grabbed her hand, making Julia feel full of stars, like maybe her little coffee shop fantasy could happen someday.  
Maybe it was happening, although she doubted everything she wished would come true in the thirty something minutes left of her lunch break.  
“Funny seeing you here.”


End file.
